


Rarely Pure and Never Simple

by evol_love



Category: A Separate Peace - John Knowles
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-13
Updated: 2012-10-13
Packaged: 2017-11-16 06:09:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evol_love/pseuds/evol_love
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The problem with Finny is Gene can't really tell when he's lying to him. And what's worse, Gene trusts Finny, despite everything, despite Finny being too perfect and too good and too...everything. Gene will always trust that when Finny tells him something, he means it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rarely Pure and Never Simple

_“The pure and simple truth is rarely pure and never simple.”_  
_― Oscar Wilde_

 

Gene loves having Finny as a roommate, he truly does. But the simple fact of the matter is half the stuff that comes out of his mouth after about 10:30 is utter nonsense. And this always hits right when Gene is earnestly trying to fall asleep after a long day of hearing Finny prattle on about things that really _do_ have logic.

That particular night, Finny turns over in bed and says lazily, "You know, I wouldn't mind going to the war so much, if we were stationed together. I'll miss waking up not seeing your sorry ass every morning, Gene."

Gene snorts and burrows deeper into his quilt and bites his lip to keep the smile off his face. The room was dark, but honestly, Gene wouldn't put it past Finny to have night-vision, too. "Good night, Finny," he says with finality.

"You're right," Finny says after making a good effort to keep quiet. "Maybe I'd be better off not having to see you the rest of my life."

It's so quiet Gene's not sure he was even supposed to hear it. But he feels his heart sink and his face flush anyway. 

The problem with Finny is Gene can't really tell when he's lying to him. It's nearly imperceptible. And what's worse, Gene _trusts_ Finny, despite everything, despite Finny being too perfect and too good and too...everything. Gene will always trust that when Finny tells him something, he means it. He turns the words over in his mind, and he can't put his finger on it, but something in Finny's tone just wasn't quite right. 

The truth, he thinks, is this: Finny is friendly enough but doesn't have any desire to see him after being drafted. 

The lie, he thinks, is this: Finny wants Gene by his side.

In the morning, they skip breakfast and bathe in the Devon, accompanied by Gene's loud protestations and worries. 

"Relax. You worry too much, Gene."

The truth, he thinks, is this: Finny is annoyed with him.

The lie, he thinks, is this: Finny cares enough to try to calm him.

In Latin class, Finny rolls his eyes pointedly at Gene and mouths exaggeratedly, “Sum terebravisse sine te.”* 

Gene flushes and scowls and mutters, “Pay attention, Finny. You might even learn something.” 

Finny just laughs and ruffles his hair absently. He doesn’t remove his hand from Gene’s hair, but slides it to rest at the nape of his neck.

The truth, he thinks, is this: Finny is bored.

The lie, he thinks, is this: Finny finds Gene exciting.

At dinner, Finny nudges Gene’s toe with his own. 

“You’re awfully quiet tonight, Gene. What’s wrong?”

And the truth, he thinks, is this: Finny hates silences.

The lie, he thinks, is this: Finny wants to know what Gene’s thinking.

That night as Gene gets ready for bed, he feels eyes on him. He turns around and sees Finny sitting on his bed looking at him, brow furrowed. 

“What?” Gene asks stupidly.

“You’ve been avoiding me. Have I done something wrong?”

And the question is so absurd Gene laughs aloud. The idea of Finny doing something wrong, ever, much less to Gene, is ridiculous. That’s the whole problem, isn’t it? And the idea of Gene avoiding him is even sillier, because Gene’s been by his side all day. Gene’s been by his side from the start. And he’s never strayed, not even in his most jealous moments has he left Finny behind. He will always stand beside Finny, because for all the envy Gene feels sometimes, he loves him. God help him, but Gene loves him.

“Gene, please?” and Finny sounds worried now. Pained, even. His eyes are slits, he’s squinting so fiercely in worry and concentration, and Gene wants nothing more than to take Finny’s face in his hands and kiss away the frown lines.

He’s never been terrifically good at getting what he wants, though. 

“’M fine,” he says dismissively, peeling off his shirt to hide his face. He throws it aside and pulls on his pajamas. When the shirt is over his head, he opens his eyes to see Finny is still studying him. He’s no longer so worried looking; now he looks…speculative. 

“I just…” Finny trails off and stands up, moving towards Gene suddenly, as though he’s chosen a course of action. Finny rests his hands on Gene’s hips and leans in, his breath tickling Gene’s cheek as he whispers, “Stop me if you want,” and kisses him. 

It’s wet and messy and probably not a very good kiss—Gene wouldn’t know—but he doesn’t care, not at all. Finny is kissing him, and he’s kissing back. And Gene’s heart flutters. ‘This is it,’ he thinks. ‘I’ve misread things all along.’ Truthfully, Gene’s never been happier to be wrong.

But when Finny pulls away, he has a mild smile on his lips. He looks thoughtful now, not completely wrecked the way Gene feels. His heart sinks.

The truth, he thinks, is this: Finny was curious.

The lie, he thinks, is this: He wants Gene.

Gene wrenches from Finny’s hold, which had tightened when they’d kissed, and backs away almost violently. 

Finny’s expression slips instantly and a crease reappears between his eyebrows. He stutters, “Oh no--oh God, I’m sorry, I didn’t—I thought…well, never mind, I just…we can just…friends. I can do that, I can totally do that.”

Gene’s brain is having a hard time keeping up. Later, he’ll blame the kiss for his mind’s dawdling. But for now, he only sees that Finny looks _scared_ in a way Gene has never, ever seen before. He looks so cracked open and so genuinely, laughably worried that somehow Gene will ever want to stop being his friend.

“No, no, stop that,” he says, pressing a thumb to Finny’s lips to silence him. Finny looks him in the eye and smiles a crooked smile that sends a shiver down Gene’s spine. He brushes his thumb gently against Finny’s bottom lip in retaliation and Finny’s sharp intake of breath is rewarding. 

“I’m not sorry, you know,” Finny says unabashedly. 

“I know.”

“You aren’t sorry either.”

“I’m not,” Gene agrees.

“Then why did we stop?”  
__ _ __ __ __ ___ __ __ __ _ __ __ __ ___ __ ___ ___  
As he tucks his head against Finny’s chest that night in bed, Finny stroking at his hair absently, Gene chews on a thought still haunting him, still holding him back, still keeping him guarded.

“Finny?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you mean what you said last night? About the army?”

“Of course I did, Gene. I meant everything. Now sleep.” And Gene’s mind is now at ease enough to do so.

 

Because the lie, he knows, is this: Finny is his best friend. 

 

The truth, he knows, is this: They’ve loved each other all along. 

_end_

**Author's Note:**

> The Latin translates very roughly to ”Without you, I am bored”


End file.
